


Clerics & Prunes

by ShiversAndStorms



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, More Fluff, Nudity but Not Explicit, Potential Spoilers, i just love these disaster lesbians idk, just general fluff, set sometime around 118
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:41:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27947729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShiversAndStorms/pseuds/ShiversAndStorms
Summary: The one where Beau takes care of her barbarian after battle.----She didn’t need super high passive perception to see that the barbarian was struggling and without hesitation, Beau found herself edging closer.“You’re still hurting.” A clear observation, not a question.“It’s nothing. I’ll be fine after a rest.”“I don’t doubt that for a second, you’re a fucking beast but here. Let me. Please.”
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 8
Kudos: 193





	Clerics & Prunes

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in years but I love these two and just felt compelled. Just the usual dose of fluffiness we all love.
> 
> Enjoy, I guess! :)

The last battle had been a brutal one. 

To say it had taken its toll was quite the understatement and it was down to sheer luck they hadn’t lost anyone to the savage beasts that prowled the depths of Eiselcross. That or the Gods had truly been looking down upon them. Either way, the entire party found themselves breathing a grateful sigh of relief that Caleb had just enough magic left in him to muster the tower for the night.

A familiar, dominating form up there in the frontlines, Yasha had taken the brunt of it. She felt no disdain however, and as usual was just glad that she had been able to keep her friends safe. All of them. Every hit she took was one that her friends didn’t have to and as she watched all of them start digging into and enjoy a well earned kitty-made feast around the table, Yasha’s heart felt full. 

Her heart hadn’t been this full for the longest of times, but this group of misfits had slowly but surely been topping it back up. 

“I’m just going to --” 

Caduceus’ healing spell had eased some of the more superficial battle wounds but she knew what she needed most right now was rest. 

And so, unaware of the piercing blue eyes studying her closely from the far end of the table, Yasha stood with a grace that should’ve been impossible given her size and quietly excused herself from the table.

Yes, a long rest is exactly what a healer would order. 

Attempting to remove a heavy breastplate when it felt as though every single rib had either been bruised or broken was no easy task. She was so exhausted she knew that sleep would take her armour or no armour and so Yasha was just about ready to admit defeat when she heard a soft knock at the door.

She didn’t know what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t --

“...... Beau.”

“Hey, I uh --. I saw you… didn’t um --” What were words? A seemingly impossible function apparently. But Yasha remained patient, heterochromic eyes growing ever softer as she watched Beau thrust out her offering. “You didn’t eat. And you should. You should eat.” 

“Thank you, Beau.” Yasha graciously accepted a pie that looked like it could feed an entire family plus the neighbours. A silence filled the air, neither barbarian or monk knowing what to do next until Yasha took an awkward step aside.

And then, at the same time:

“Would you like to --?”

“I guess I’ll go --” Wait, what? “I mean --” 

“..... come in?” 

In the midst of battle they were able to move with an impossible synchronicity. Almost like they could telepathically read the other’s mind and know what their next couple of moves would be in advance. When they fought alongside each other it was like a well rehearsed dance routine, every step perfect. When they attempted conversation - no, when they even attempted small talk - it was the opposite. It was full of bumbling and stuttering and talking over one another. 

Beau took a breath, silently cussed herself for being an absolute fucking mess of a moron and took a step into Yasha’s room.

Yasha deposited the pie onto a nearby table and resumed the arduous task of removing her breast plate. A shadow of a wince masked her pale face as she finally reached one of the side buckles but had to stretch awkwardly for access. 

She didn’t need super high passive perception to see that the barbarian was struggling and without hesitation, Beau found herself edging closer. 

“You’re still hurting.” A clear observation, not a question.

“It’s nothing. I’ll be fine after a rest.” 

“I don’t doubt that for a second, you’re a fucking beast but here. Let me. Please.”

A fucking beast? Confusion clouded Yasha’s features but she was quickly distracted by the nimble fingers that deftly swept hers out of the way and got to work unbuckling. She started with the topmost buckle but not a wearer of armour herself, not used to having to remove such equipment herself, Beau’s fingers were a little unsteady as she gradually worked her way down. 

That was the excuse she gave herself anyway. It had nothing to do with the insanely hot, incredibly thoughtful, beautiful, gentle giant of a woman right in front of her. Absolutely nothing. Nope.

Despite all her previous efforts to get it off, and despite her ribs protesting at being uncomfortably constricted and contained, Yasha suddenly found herself hoping this moment wouldn’t end.

But it did. And far too soon for her liking.

Leaving just the leather tunic she wore underneath on, Yasha shrugged out of the armour and couldn’t help but groan with relief at finally being able to stretch out her muscles. Gods, that felt better already. 

“Thank you, Beau.”

“No sweat, man. Need anything else?” She barked a quick laugh and had no valid excuse for her next action other than an overwhelming intoxication from Yasha’s close proximity. Any charisma she possessed evaporated whenever Yasha was around. Her dark eyebrows wiggled suggestively. “We could play cleric and patient if you want.” 

It was a joke. A terrible one, but a joke nonetheless.

A joke that Yasha didn’t quite understand for she took the comment very literally. Apparently, Yasha had never heard of the game kids would play as an excuse to touch eachother. Maybe it was just an Empire thing. 

“Oh? I didn’t know you had trained…” 

“Oh uh -- No no no no. I haven’t. I mean.” Fuck a duck. “I mean, we went over some healing techniques at the monastery y’know. Like. The basics and that but --” 

Yasha’s head tilted with an innocent curiosity. Beau seemed suddenly flustered and she wasn’t sure why. It was endearingly adorable though and a soft smile graced the aasimar’s lips. She felt a sudden urge to reach out and put a palm to Beau’s cheek just to see if it felt as warm as it looked right now but refrained. 

She hadn’t given Beau that letter in the hopes of receiving a response. She had just written down thoughts and feelings that she thought the other woman had every right to know. Very honest feelings, yes, but she hadn’t done it with the hopes of receiving some kind of grand gesture or confession in return. 

But still, she was cautious about overstepping boundaries. 

And so her arms remained limp at her sides. 

“What kind of basics?” 

Because she was still mighty sore.

“Depends on the kind of injury, y’know. We would sometimes get knocked about pretty bad during training and a hot bath always helped loosen the muscles after.” 

Yasha nodded. “A bath does sound nice.” 

And then they did it _again_. At the exact same time _again_.

“Alright, well I suppose I’ll just --” Beau started to gesture a thumb at the door behind her but halted when she heard Yasha’s words over her own. 

“Will you stay?” 

“Oh. I… uh-- yeah, sure. I mean. If you want me to?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you to, Beau.”

“Right. Yeah. Of course. Duh.” She cleared her throat and promptly rubbed the back of her neck. It felt tense. Fuck, she could probably use a hot bath too. And then the thought of sharing a bath with Yasha invaded her brain and she immediately felt flustered all over again. Wait, no. Forget that hot bath, Beau was pretty sure it was a cold shower she needed. 

“I’ll -- I’ll get it ready for you.” And desperately needing to distract herself, Beau quickly side-stepped Yasha and moved to where the tub stood. She started to fiddle with the faucet in an attempt to get the perfect temperature and now, facing away, her back turned to the other woman, she mentally chided herself for being unable to keep her cool. C’mon! She was Beauregard Fucking Lionett, man! Cool was supposed to be what she did best! 

Yasha meanwhile, without thinking anything of it, quietly began to undress. She kicked off her boots, shrugged out of her trousers and then peeled off the tunic, wincing when it caught on a couple of scabs that had only just started to heal. Garments in a pile at her feet, Yasha then began to pad quietly across the room towards the tub, starting to undo the wraps used to bind her chest as she went. Trying to anyway. 

And it was at that exact moment, when Beau had decided she had finally regained some of her chill, that she turned to let Yasha know the bath was at optimum, muscle relaxing temperature. 

“Holy fucking shit balls.” 

She didn’t mean to say it out loud but how could she NOT? The site before her was a glorious one and for crying out loud, Beau was only human. 

It was unclear whether she heard it or not because Yasha paid absolutely no mind. She had been raised as part of a nomadic tribe where privacy was a luxury difficult to come across. And it was impossible to travel across the world with an adventuring party and to not catch glimpses of each other nude during visits to bathhouses. 

“Beau....?”

Beau blinked several times, just to make sure this was real and not some kind of vision. She then cleared her dry throat and raised a questioning eyebrow in response. She was pretty sure she couldn’t do words right now.

“Would you mind?” Yasha gestured at the chest binding. “It’s still…. stretching is difficult.”

She’d offered, in jest, to play cleric and patient and Beau wasn’t sure if this was a blessing or some kind of torture. Yasha was clearly in pain - that monster in the caves had really done her over - yet Beau’s brain was clouded with inappropriate thoughts. Did that make her a terrible person!? 

She cleared her throat some more, nodded and approached Yasha. The barbarian turned to allow better access to her wraps and unable to help herself, Beau lightly ran her fingertips over the expanse plane of muscles that made up Yasha’s back. It was like she’d been carved from marble.

Yasha was definitely aware this time. Hyper aware. And those already tense muscles tensed even more under calloused hands. She squeezed her eyes shut and stood still, waiting. 

Beau had imagined this moment countless times. But every time she’d imagined it, it had been under entirely different circumstances. Yes, she’d totally imagined ripping off these bindings and climbing Yasha like a fucking tree.

There was nothing rough about her hands now though. Quite the opposite actually. Her hands were slow, tender and moved with purpose. Because despite her menagerie of improper thoughts, there was only one purpose here and that was to take care of Yasha. 

It didn’t take too long and wrappings gone, Yasha took the opportunity to stretch some more before edging towards the tub and slowly lowering herself in.

“Feels better already,” Yasha breathed, relishing in the feeling sinking lower still in the water to allow the heat to do it’s thing.

“Heh heh. Told you.” Beau couldn’t help but grin. She pulled up a stool and settled herself down, elbows leaning on the edge of the tub. It was easier to relax now there wasn’t a hot naked body in front of her. “I basically lived in the bath when I first joined the Cobalt Soul. My fingers were a constant state of prune. Thought they might stay that way at one point.”

“Ah yes. Bathhouses weren’t a thing for me until recently. Growing up, it was mostly freshening up in rivers and it was too cold to do it for long so the wrinkly hands thing was quite alarming when it first happened. I freaked out the first time. Molly found it hilarious.” 

She smiled sadly and brows furrowed, Yasha stared down at the steaming water. 

Beau noticed the sudden change of demeanor.

“Hey.” In one swift, bold movement the monk dunked her hand in the water in search of one of Yasha’s hands. It didn’t take long to locate what she was looking for and her fingers instinctively twined with Yasha’s and gave a squeeze. “You’re lucky to have memories like that. I know what’s going on at the moment is all kinds of seriously fucked up but don’t let it put a dampener on the good memories you have.” 

“I know, I know, I know.” Her mismatched eyes glanced back up to meet Beau’s blue pair. “I don’t think I could cope if I didn’t have everyone else…… If I didn’t have you.” Her words were dripping with the kind of earnestness that would normally have Beau running for the hills, but the monk stayed put, her fingers still laced with Yasha’s under the surface of the water. She wasn’t budging and didn’t plan on it any time soon.

“Good job you’re stuck with me then, huh?” Her quick quip back lacked it’s usual wit or edginess and instead exuded a softness that took even herself by surprise. “I’m not going anywhere, promise.” 

Yasha nodded and teeth chewing on her lower lip, she tentatively leaned closer until her forehead gently rested against Beau’s.

“And neither is your hand. I hope you’re ready for prune fingers.” 


End file.
